


Raining Blood at Comiket

by AlchemistMayCry



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, No More Heroes (Video Games)
Genre: Absurd, Action, Action/Adventure, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Comiket, Crossover, Even Deadpool Doesn't Break the Fourth Wall As Much, Fourth Wall, Gen, I Don't Even Know, The Fourth Wall is Out to Lunch, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 14:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19231030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlchemistMayCry/pseuds/AlchemistMayCry
Summary: It was all going so well until Travis Touchdown found out that Hifumi Yamada had criticized Bizarre Jelly. The garden of madness opens its doors at Comiket.





	Raining Blood at Comiket

It was raining blood at Comiket.

Artists, cosplayers, and creators fled the bloodbath, trying to save as much of their hard work as they could. No one wanted to get caught in the crossfire. Many did, either exploding into chunks of gore or being neatly cut apart before geysers of blood flowed from the wounds. Spleens were ruptured, heads were exploded, and expensive cosplays incinerated. At the heart of the Tokyo International Exhibition Center, the battle raged, its participants blissfully (or intentionally) unaware of the carnage they were causing.

One of them, a lean American with aviators, spiked up hair, and a beam katana with a sickly green blade. He grinned wildly.

The other, an obese high schooler in a homemade suit of powered armor, colored to resemble his favorite mecha from one of his favorite anime.

The two charged, going in for the kill.

_Pause. Rewind._

$$$

To be fair, I wasn’t _trying_ to hurt any civilians. My target was the fat bastard in the power armor. He really didn’t know how to aim in that thing. Great design though. It’s a perfect replica of Robo Justice, the Galactic King. In another time, I would’ve commended the fat bastard piloting for his cosplay skills.

I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself, have I?

The name’s Travis Touchdown. I’m an assassin. Number One in the UAA.

The fuckhead in the power armor that looks like he went to get some tonkatsu bowls for lunch and didn’t stop until he cleaned the place out is the self-professed Ultimate Doujinshi Creator, Hifumi Yamada.

Or was it Super High School Level Doujin Author? Or Ultimate Fanfic Creator? Whatever, translation’s a bitch.

You might be asking, “Travis, why are you trying to kill someone like you? You’re an otaku, he’s an otaku, surely you would be friends!”

See, that’s where you’re wrong.

Yamada and I could never be friends. Maybe in another life, another time. And I respect him. He’s done more for the dojin and fanfic communities than I ever could. His title of Ultimate is more than justified. I’ve seen his skill first-hand. His online tutorials are something to behold.

But all that’s gone because he said something unforgivable. Something so rage-inducing I knew that vengeance was necessary.

He dared to criticize _Bizarre Jelly_.

Yamada’s video tutorials are amazing, as I said. But like every video producer on the internet, he’s gotta get some ad revenue from other videos too. He’s become well known for his scathing anime and manga reviews. These reviews garner millions of hits, even when they can go on for hours.

Legend has it that if Yamada criticizes your anime or manga, it’ll get cancelled or drop in ratings overnight.

Of course I’m subscribed to him. His weapon tutorials have been amazing. I had been improving to give Naomi some new ideas for gear. But that’s beside the point.

The fat fuckhead criticized _Bizarre Jelly_. For three straight hours, he eviscerated my favorite franchise, and even dared to compare it to his favorite anime, _Princess Piggles_.

I’ve seen all of _Princess Piggles_. It’s pandering moe trash fire that deserves to die.

The reaction to the _Bizarre Jelly_ video was swift. Instant adulation of how Yamada had “Opened our eyes” to the badness of _Bizarre Jelly_. How he was doing god’s work. That Bizarre Jelly was on par with the worst of the worst, up there with _Garzey’s Wing_ , _MD Geist_ , and _Sword Art Online_.

I nearly put the Tsubaki Mk3 through my computer screen. But I needed my computer for another reason.

A flight to Japan. Hotel bookings for Comiket. Yamada would be there. I had to run a few assassination gigs to get the money. Nobody special, enough to pay those bills.

Then I sat, staring at my clock, waiting for the days to pass for August’s Comiket. I kept myself awake with coffee and pocky, training. Naomi thought I was crazy. I put together sketches for a special something, just in case things got too hairy.

$$$

Getting into Comiket was the easy part. Security even thought the Tsubaki Mk3 was a nonfunctional replica. Fucking idiots. I grinned as I went through, the smell of doujinshi permeating the convention center. Comiket was something else. Half a million attendees. I scoured the event for as much Bizarre Jelly merchandise as I could find. Unfortunately, sellers had completely ignored my favorite franchise except for a few holdouts. That bastard Yamada had really rendered that franchise dead. All the better to kill him off sooner.

The hard part was getting to Yamada. As the Ultimate Doujinshi Artist, his booth was longer than the Santa Destroy beach. Of course, he could keep up with the number of people. I stood in line, tapping my foot, blood pressure rising. The wait was gnawing on me. I started pressing forward, trying to subtly get further down the line.

This was a mistake in retrospect. I probably shouldn’t have gone for subtlety and just started slaughtering the whole line before they got the drop on me.

“You think you can just cut in line?!” a fellow fan of Yamada stopped me. He wasn’t too obese, wearing a Naruto shirt and carrying bags of merchandise.

“Fuck off, fatass, I’ve got a date with Yamada,” I said, pushing him aside.

I didn’t expect to get launched back with a baseball bat to the stomach. Thankfully a group of passersby cushioned my impact. I disentangled myself from them, drawing the Tsubaki Mk3 and igniting it, the familiar _snap-hiss_ of the sickly green blade making my blood run hot.

“You ready to die?” I said to the fatass. And in the line, everyone drew some sort of weapon. From regular katanas, to beam katanas, to hammers, to spears and staves.

“Are you?” the fatass responded. “No one disrepects Yamada-sensei’s line! Anyone who does, dies!”

My grin widened. “Cue the music, let’s dance!”

Comiket was raining blood that day. Not mine, theirs. I carved through the line, slicing from one otaku to the next. Fatass went down easily, even with his superalloy steel bat. His decapitated head flew far. Not worth the LB$ that flew out of him. A few filler opponents later and the line was still long. That’s when I got attacked by another fanboy, armed with a sword made of manga volumes that looked like the Dragonslayer’s nerdier cousin. He swung it around, clad in papier-mache armor of manga with ahegao faces.

“Buddy, you got style,” I said, cutting straight through his armor. “But you ain’t got substance.”

You know after a while, you get desensitized to this kind of thing. Not a lot of creativity besides the big guy in the ahegao armor. For a miniboss, he wasn’t that tough. And the rest of the mooks in line weren’t exactly top-tier description material either. When you’re more boring than the Drifter and his douchey brother Skelter Helter (that asshole who looked like Cloud from a while back? Yeah, I don’t blame you if you forgot he existed.), sometimes slicing through a bunch of fanboys and fangirls gets real boring.

The real miniboss was right before Yamada. A trio of a girl and her two boy friends, all wielding love-themed equipment. The boys were cosplaying as bishonen from an otome franchise. Guess she was shipping them even as they were fighting me. Pink beam katanas for the boys, and the girl armed with a pink minigun of all things.

Honestly? I’d take Bad Girl or Alice Twilight over this shit.

The first boy in a green wig attacked me, going into a series of slashes and strikes that seemed familiar.

“Your style…” I said. “Do you know who I am?”

The green-haired bishie grinned. “The No More Hero. Travis Touchdown! I’ve studied all your moves!”

I grinned. “I love fans. Let me give you an autograph!” I kicked him in the stomach, stunning him long enough to launch him in the air. I leaped up, finishing the poor sap off with a spinning piledriver that would do Zangief proud, shattering his spine on my knee.

His blue-haired comrade roared in anger and rushed me, swinging wildly. A quick slap to the side of the head left him open to a beheading slice. “YOU’RE DONE!”

Their fujoshi leader was the only one left, her minigun missing every shot. I stalked forward, casually knocking bullets away. The last thing to escape her was a scream of fury as I bisected her clean in half down the middle.

I was at the front of the line. Yamada was there, still plugging away at his tablet like nothing had happened. The line of bodies behind me sent people screaming for security. It wouldn’t matter. I had reached my target.

“So, you’re Hifumi Yamada,” I said, swaggering over, holding out the Tsubaki Mk3 to his head.

He didn’t respond.

“You ready to die?”

He looked up. “I’m busy. Come back when I’m done.”

“I don’t think you understand. Look at your line.”

Yamada looked up, his eyes going wide as plates. “What?! WhO. How?! All my customers!” He glared at me. “ _You_.”

I grinned. “ _Me._ ”

“You’re here to kill me? Why?”

“Six months ago, you put out a video entitled ‘Why the _Pure White Lover Bizarre Jelly_ Franchise is Garbage’. It got millions of hits, and within a day the franchise had seen significant sales losses.”

Yamada smiled, pushing up his glasses. “It is garbage tho! The animation is terrible, the character designs are awful, the story is nonexistent, and the music is insipid! It’s a waste of animators’ time and money!”

I frowned. “So’s _Princess Piggles_.”

Yamada’s glasses gleamed. “You. Take. That. Back.”

“Touched a nerve, fuckhead? Whatcha gonna do about it?” I got into a stance, readying the Tsubaki Mk3.

Yamada stood up, cracking his knuckles and pressing a button on his backpack strap. His fat body became encased in blue, white, and red armor. He was taller than I was thanks to this. Missile launchers folded out from behind his back, and he ignited a pair of massive hammers, with beam katana edges for extra power.

I grinned. “I’m kinda glad you brought out the power armor! And based on Robo Justice no less! A fellow man of culture I see!”

“SHUT UP! I’ll…I’ll kill you!” Yamada screamed, his voice distorted and mechanical.

“Makes me feel better about killing a high-schooler! If you hadn’t brought out that armor, we’d have to jack up the age rating of this story so hard, Archive of Our Own would probably ban it!”

“Shut up and die already!” Yamada fired off a barrage of missiles and a laser blast. I cut through several of the missiles and deflected the laser blast, a delayed explosion frying several passersby. A crowd had gathered around us, whooping for Yamada.

“Bring it on! I’ll cut through that armor!” I shifted into a low stance.

“Tell me, what’s your name?” Yamada said.

“It’s Travis! Travis Touchdown! Or you can call me the Crownless King, or the No More Hero!” I held out the Tsubaki Mk3, raring to go.

“Well then, Mr. Travis Touchdown!” Yamada readied his weapons. “TASTE THE FURY OF THE ULTIMATE DOUJINSHI ARTIST!”

$$$

I will admit, I tried to not cause casualties, but Yamada’s aim was bad. Missiles blew up passersby. The security guards eventually gave up, and the area was cordoned off. What can I say, but I was having the time of my life. I'd be sure to put this one on the top ten list for awesome fights.

“You take back everything mean you said about _Princess Piggles_!” Yamada screeched.

“You know, that’s getting really old,” I said. “What’s the difference? It’s garbage! Lowest of the moe low! I’ve read better _Love Live_ porn doujins than that shit!”

“I could say the same thing for _Bizarre Jelly_!” Yamada nearly smashed me with a hammer, and I jumped back, breathing heavily.

“You ever get tired?”

“Not when I protect my favorite anime!”

I stood up, deactivating the Tsubaki Mk3. Time to see how well Naomi implemented my designs. “It’s been fun, Yamada. But I think I’m going to end this, here and now.”

Yamada laughed. “With what? Deactivating your sword?”

I grinned, running my hand across my eyes. “HENSHIN!”

The armor formed around me instantly, ending with a helmet with a T-shaped visor. I could hear Yamada gasp underneath his helmet. I held out my arms and the Tsubaki Mk3’s extended from my right, followed by another Tsubaki Mk3 on the left.

“Damn, Naomi did a good one on this! Say hello to the Tsubaki Mk44 Armor!”

“DIE, TRAAAAAAAVIS!” Yamada screamed, summoning a giant Justice Hammer to smash me.

I grinned, shifting the Ultra Armor into overdrive, cutting the hammer clean in half. Yamada gasped and I surged forward, slashing with what looked like one attack.

“That’s it?” Yamada said.

I laughed. “You young’un. Haven’t you seen _Fist of the North Star_?”

I could practically hear Yamada’s eyes widen. “Don’t say it!”

“You…are already dead.”

The single slash became a dizzying array of multiple slashes, cleaving Yamada’s armor apart and turning his body into a mess of gore and limbs. His head dropped in front of me, and I smirked. The Mk44 Armor folded back into its pocket dimension on my belt buckle. I could hear sirens off in the distance. My phone rang.

“Yeah?”

“Travis, it’s Sylvia. Where ze hell are you?”

“Japan. Comiket. Had to run an errand. Think you can send the UAA boys over for a cleanup?”

“Who did you kill now?!”

“Another geek who insulted my favorite anime.”

Sylvia sighed. “That’s the tenth time this month.”

“What can I say, the readers wanted a spectacle. And the writer wanted a crossover between Danganronpa and No More Heroes because one didn’t exist.”

“Who’s next, Travis?”

I turned around to see a girl with pink hair in twin pigtails standing there. She was riding a giant black and white teddy bear, with one regular eye and a red eye that looked like a crescent. She smiled, clearly ready to fight.

“Someone even better. Might want to get a bigger cleanup crew.” I said to Sylvia before hanging up. I ignited the Tsubaki Mk3. “I’ve fought assassins, pizza company CEOs, and phantom game consoles. I wonder how I’ll fare against the Ultimate Despair?”


End file.
